


As It Was, As It Will Be

by Jinxiia



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Elvhen, F/M, Family, M/M, Post-Canon, Sad Ending, Unplanned Pregnancy, no happy ending, non-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4295175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinxiia/pseuds/Jinxiia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle with Corypheus draws to a close. Victory for the Inquisition is yet to be decided, but the Herald of Andraste is doing her best to see her friends through to the end. The Dalish thought she knew exactly how her live would play out, but she's been wrong at every turn. Life continually throws curve balls and she's caught all of them with grace and style until the last one. That one will have no grace or finesse. Sometimes, one needs to stop being what others expect of you. Some times you need to be bitch at the end of the tunnel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Scariest Thing Yet.

**Author's Note:**

> *****
> 
> Alright, so I finally rewrote this small fic, still haven't had it beta'd. I struggled with actually keeping it up on A03, but there it is. I'm making slow progress on it, so bear with me. I cannot promise regular or scheduled updates, but I'm doing my best!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elëwyn & Dorian have a heart-to-heart.

"Elëwyn..." 

"Elëwyn? Are you even listening?" His voice repeated.

"Hmmm...?" The soft reply came, carried off in the wind, whipped from the balcony.

"I asked you if you're planning on just standing there in the door way all night long. You're letting all the damnable cold in." Dorian huffed, with a slight shiver ending his complaint.

Elëwyn turned from the open doors of the balcony to the glowering Tevinter and watched as he pulled his over coat tighter around his torso. She sighed, stepping back through the threshold, shutting the glass doors. She blinked, the glazed look slipping away from her features.

"Ir abelas."

"You can be sorry all you like, or better yet, you can tell me why you've holed yourself up here again." Dorian's frown returned, as it often did whenever the elf was involved, which occurred more and more frequently.

"You shouldn't worry so much about me." Her voice trailed off as she approached the couch she and Bull had moved to in front of the hearth. "I'm fine, perhaps more tired than usual... but fine."

"The fact you're roaming around your chambers, dazed and slightly lifeless looking... It gives me cause to worry. You promised you'd come to me if it became overwhelming." Dorian met her at the couch, seating himself and patting the cushion beside him. Once she sat down, curling herself as best as she could under his left arm, he placed the blanket over her legs. He looked down at Elëwyn, eyes finally settling on the round bump that protruded from her mid-section. He placed his right hand on it hoping that the feel of his hand and the sound of his voice would convince the elfkit to make any movement. He sighed, once again disappointed.

"He's been quiet for awhile, don't look so down trodden. It is not just you he ignores." Elëwyn's small smile, the one she kept only for Dorian, finally surfaced as she placed her small, lithe hand on his and brushed her thumb over the soft skin. "He was so busy this afternoon, flipping and kicking, and doing whatever he does. He probably tired himself out.

"You're so sure he's a "he"." Dorian's thumb tapped softly against her stomach. "If you turn out to be correct, I do believe Dorian the Second would make a majestic name."

The smile growing, she swatted his hand gently. "An ego boost that you do not need, Altus!" Shifting slightly underneath his arm, she looked up at him, the look of knowing on her face. "Yes, I really do think he's a boy. Cole knows, but I've asked him to not tell me, not to give me or anyone else hints. He says my little one loves our voices, even likes it when Bull sings." Her voice soft with love and adoration she continued, "Boy or girl, they will be no doubt spoiled by the rest of you... I am so grateful I have each and everyone of you beside me. I believe this is going to be the scariest thing I've had to go through yet."

Dorian's gaze met her green eyes, and his chuckle rumbled through him. "Scariest thing yet? You, a Dalish elf, were raised as a holy figure for a religion you do not believe in. You were placed at the head of the Inquistion, faced the ancient Elvhen, which brought you face to face with one of your gods, and you defeated Corypheus. Having a child is the scariest thing?!" the mischief splayed across his face. " 'Ma Da'vin, you never cease to surprise me."

Mirroring his look, she playfully pushed his chest, "Oh, did I not let you in on the little secret, 'ma falon? It will be the scariest thing you help me do." She watched as Dorian's face dropped slightly. "Oh, yes... there will be diapers and crying throughout the night into the waking light. There will be falls, scrapes, and bruises. Tears, frustration, and no doubt tantrums. And when he comes into his magic, which being sired by mages... That will be challenging in itself."

Sitting up straighter on the couch, Dorian placed his other hand on top of her, looking straight into her eyes, "I am here. I will be there. Your child will want for nothing." Softening, he grinned, "Not too mention, he'll have the best instructor available to him to teach him the ways of pyromancy."

Elëwyn snorted. "If he has any sense, he'll be like his mother. None of this fire shenanigans."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I am sadly terrible with Elven. I will do my best, if you see something, point it out!!! :)
> 
> Elvish:
> 
> 'Ma Da'vin - my small storm  
> 'Ma falon - my friend


	2. As It Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flash back scenes from what was. Around the Arbour Wilds excursion, which - in my head cannon - is about a month before the defeat of Corypheus. (This roughly places my Lavellan round 5 weeks...)

**Before the Temple of Mythal**

"Inquisitor, when did the nausea start?"

"I'm.. I'm not sure. I must be wound so tightly with stress. We have been so busy, trying to cut down Corypheus' plans. The nausea comes and goes. Usually when I have a moment to breathe. All of the adrenaline ends, and the reality of everything comes crashing in on me... Can you give me anything for it? I'm finding even the restoratives aren't even truly helping." Elëwyn looked at healer, wringing her hands.

A frown drew on the healer's face, but he slowly nodded. Handing her a small satchel, Taedan motioned for her to stand from the examination cot. "Take the shavings, and use it as a tea with honey. If the nausea is especially bad, chew a small pinch. You may ingest, it just wont taste very good." He opened the infirmary's door, the sun light streaming in. "If you find it is not easing, please return. We will look into other causes."

Nodding, the elven Inquisitor thanked the healer and stepped out, the sun warming her paler-than-normal skin.

"Hey! Quizzy! The boys and me are heading to the rings to watch Krempuff take on Beardy. You in?" Sera's voice launched from her tavern room window.

Stopping just below the open window, Elëwyn shaded her eyes from the afternoon sun to meet the ecstatic rogue above. Grinning, Elëwyn waved up to the rogue, "Yes! A distraction would be welcomed. I hope the stakes are good and the pot full; Blackwell owes me for our Diamond Back game.

Sera's laughter floated out of the window as she bounded out of room to meet up with the others.

**Final Preparations Before The Arbour Wilds**

"Vhenan." He strode into the War Room, heading straight to the keeled-over Inquisitor. Her hands supported her head, elbows on her knees as she sat on the chair Cullen had barely been able to grab for her. Josephine stood behind her, rubbing her back, a concerned look gracing the normally stoic face.

"Maker, I am surprised I got the chair under her in time. That look..." Cullen trailed off looking at the elven apostate with such worry.

Taking her hands in his, he gently pulled them from her face. Elëwyn lifted her head to look into the eyes of her lover. Her skin was so pale, her hands clammy. The infamous frown line between his brows told her she wasn't going to be able to brush this off so easily this time. 

"I'm fine," sighing, "really I am." She meekly smiled, watching him raise his eyebrow. 

"No. You are not." Turning his gaze to the Inquisitor's advisers, "Thank you for finding me. I will see her to the healers." Standing, he guided her hands to follow his body upwards. Slowly though, lest she collapse under her weight or faint. "I'll inform you once the examination is complete."

Huffing, Elëwyn shakily rose to Solas' insistence. She opened her mouth to again reassure them that she was indeed fine. The look she received from Leliana silenced the protest. To the healers she would go. As the mage's hand slipped around her hip gently, he held her hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

\------

Emelie waved Solas out of the infirmary. "I will not have you standing over me as exam my patient, Messere!" Shutting the door firmly, the healer turned back to the elf on the bed. "I apologize, Taedan has been called to barracks for an "emergency". Those Templars..." Shaking her head, Emelie motioned for Elëwyn to remove her button up. 

"I really had hoped that whatever Taedan had given me previously would help. I had to up the dosage over and over though. Didn't seem to work after awhile."

"Ginger.. he gave you ginger. Typical." Cocking her head to the side, the healer gently pushed the Inquisitor's shoulders down to the mattress. "I'm going to press on your mid-drift. Please let me know if anything is uncomfortable or sharp."

Elëwyn held her breath, trying not to jerk when Emelie unknowing hit her ticklish side. She muttered an apology when she noticed the healer's stern face.

The healer's gentle, but persistent prodding of her abdomen cause the elf to wince slightly. "Uh, Inquisitor..." Emelie dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. Even here.. Especially here, she knew that the walls had ears. "I do not feel any tears or bulges that might lead to such nausea..." She searched the elf's eyes for any understanding, and found none. She tried again, "Your abdomen has hardened, you're slightly distended in the lower region." Emelie watched as the elf before widened her eyes in bewilderment. "I, uh, m'lady... when was the last time..." taking a breath in, "did you bleed."

Elëwyn shot up from the mattress, almost taking out the healer's skull in the process. Wide-eyed and fearful she stared at Emelie. "I know what you're asking, and it's not possible. No. I've" she sucked in a breath, "we've been careful. Witherstalk tea twice a day, chewing it just to be sure."

Emelie glanced to the closed infirmary door and then back to her patient. Pained expression crossing her features, she patted Elëwyn's hand. Holding the Inquisitor's hand, she allowed the elf to let the facts sink in. "My apologies then, Inquisitor."

Voice to a hoarse whisper, Elëwyn looked to the healer, "I.. I can't have anyone knowing. I'm not showing. I'm, at best, a few weeks? We head to the Wilds in two days. If anyone finds out. If _He_ finds out, that is an argument I do not wish to have, whatever _their_ thoughts on this particular situation." She nodded towards the door.

Emelie stood up, walking to a cupboard on the other wall. Bringing back 3 bottles she placed them in front of Elëwyn. "You still have sometime to decide. This one," handing her a tan container, "two doses with water and food for two days, morning and night." Emelie watched as understanding dawned on the Inquisitor's face. Pointing to the two other containers, "The brown one has supplements. Once daily, coming to me for refills only. The grey bottle, an anti-nauseant made specifically for this. You will need to stop the Witherstalk immediately if this is the decision you take. "

Elëwyn looked at the bottles before her. Thousands of thoughts coursed through her mind. Glancing several times between the bottles, Emelie, and the door which Solas was waiting behind, she sighed. Pushing the tan container into Emelie's hands, she gave a weak smile. "I'm Dalish. We don't do that... I won't do that. No matter his or the others reactions..." Emelie smiled and nodded, taking the bottle back to the cupboard.

"I will want to see you weekly when you're in Skyhold. You need to take the supplements regularly. I will not say a word."

" 'Ma serannas, my thanks, Emelie."

Standing up, buttoning her shirt, she looked down at her belly. Placing a hand on it she let out the breath she had held. Picking up the bottles, she walked to the door with the healer.

"Make sure you take the stress-reliever, Inquisitor. Also, the sleeping doses are a must. No more fade hopping or...." Emelie looked at her with as stern of a expression as she could muster as the door swung open.

"Ah, yes, no moonlight frolicking for me. I do believe I will be monitored carefully, whether I wish it or not. I shall be most disappointed." Elëwyn gave Solas the most innocent, eye-lashed gaze she knew how.

His smirk and light chuckle filled her just enough to swallow the huge lump that had grown in her throat. He held out his hand and she took it. Turning to Emelie before leaving with him, Elëwyn mouthed a thank you again. Solas held her hand as they walked back to the keep. He started lecturing her about getting enough sleep, especially before heading to the Arbour Wilds. The Inquisitor nodded her head in agreement. Would she ever need her sleep.

*Following the Arbour Wilds**

Ancient Elvhen! 

Samson and Red Templars... Abelas and the Sentinels... The Vir'Abelasan. Mythal... The Voices. 

It was just so much to process. A different type of nausea came over as she dry heaved on the stone floor of the Eluvian's room. Solas glanced at her form on the ground. As Morrigan stood at the door to the gardens, as Cole and Blackwall stumbled out of Eluvian... _HE_ stormed out. 

Cole ducked down on the floor beside the Inquisitor. "Distressed. Infuriated. Feelings he wants nothing to do with, but they are there. Pacing in the dark, ready to..."

"No, Cole. Enough."

The Spirit of Compassion closed his mouth, sitting back on his heels. He waited. He waited for her to get up. He knew. Her personal fears at this time were much more than what current events could possibly dictate.

\----

Between pacing her chambers and stopping in front of the full length mirror Josephine had given to her, the internal fight raged on. She stared at her barely rounded midsection, ghosting her fingers over the tight skin. Prior to the return from the Wilds, she had been determined to tell him. She really was going to. Her plan was thought out, what she'd say exactly; even down to giving him an easy way out... Elëwyn Lavellan had been so sure she had the courage. That courage was dashed, like sea water against the cliffs of the Storm Coast. His pleading for her to not partake of the well, his clear anger afterwards. Yet she would not allow the Witch of the Wilds to possess what was not hers to take. The Inquisitor stopped moving once she heard a knock. Pulling down her shirt, smoothing it out, she answered, "Enter."

"Hey, Boss." The Qunari moved up the stairs and stopped on the top landing of the stairs. "I came to pull you out of here. No one's seen or heard from you since you arrived through that Mirror."

"Eluvian." Elëwyn tried to stamp out the irritation in her voice. 

"Yeah, that." Bull crossed his arms against his broad chest. Every time he did it that fashion, Krem's "billowy man-bosom" comment crossed her mind and in that moment, she let out a soft giggle.

Shaking her head, she walked towards him. Extending her hand, she motioned him down the stairs. Elëwyn wouldn't - couldn't - hide forever.

\----

There had been a letter slipped in with the reports that Josephine had hand delivered. Elëwyn had thought that strange, but had thanked the Ambassador just the same. When the pile had dwindled, she came to it and immediately knew it was from him by his uniquely beautiful script that had scrawled her name across the folded parchment. The Inquisitor opened it warily, Solas had finally requested her to see him in the rotunda. 

\----

"Come with me, Vhenan."

Elëwyn hesitated. Nodding slowly, she followed him out of the rotunda, through the Great Hall and out to the yard. Glancing behind her, Varric shrugged at the wary look that crossed her features.

"Solas, where are we going?" Confusion crossed her features. Hadn't he just been furious with her? Was their conversation in the rotunda not indicative of that? Even with the small flirtations before he asked her to follow, she felt uneasy.

There was a reason she had avoided him for the couple of weeks after returning. Avoiding the rotunda hadn't been easy either. The habit to enter there first before using the inner stairs to library had often left her jerkily awkward as the memory snapped to her. Varric had watched her struggle and had begun to remind her, making it look like she was there to speak with him, rather than let an old habit win out. Remembering to use the stairs directly from the hall was apparently harder than it should have been. Once in the library, Dorian had begun to keep a close eye on her, often placing himself in strategic places as Elëwyn carried out the tasks that brought her to the tower. He never once mentioned Solas' brooding or misery at the loneliness her absence caused.

"We're leaving Skyhold for a few days." His responded airily, walking just a step ahead of her.

Stopping in her tracks, she stared at the back of his head. Sensing her no longer behind him, he turned to her. His eyes soft and filled with... something she couldn't read. Her apprehension raising by the second.

"I have cleared it with your advisers. Lady Montilyet even agreed that that we should take a moment for ourselves. Much has come to pass, and being beyond these walls, beyond your titles, may do you some good."

Breathing in, she stepped inline with him and gave him a small smile, "Lead on, then. I agree, maybe some respite will do us good."

Apprehension slowly slipping away, familiar thoughts began to flood her mind as they made their way to the stables. Perhaps this would be the time. Perhaps her courage could bolster itself. Perhaps he may even be over-joyed. Perhaps.

**Crestwood**

Elëwyn watched as he walked away from her. From _them_ \- the tingling of the veil, no longer a comfort. Dropping to her knees, grass brushing her, the nausea rushed over her once again. Her perfect plan.. She had thought once to give him the option to walk away, but she never thought he'd take it. Never thought he'd walk away before she even had the chance to tell him. It was all whisked away by him leaving her there in the grove. Alone. Tears threatening to crest and pour down her now bare cheeks, she lowered her head into her hands. Thoughts and emotions running through her, she stayed on the ground. The moisture swept into her leggings, the dampness sending shivers down her spine, Elëwyn gave in and wept. She thought she'd have everything. She was wrong. So. Very. Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: (Other than not owing any Bioware Content...)
> 
> This is my very first fan fic.. ever. It's also the first time I've written anything in YEARS. I do apoligize for any grammatical or spelling errors. I do not have a beta reader, so I welcome all pointers and critiques.


	3. This Isn't Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Solas' Disaster in the Grove.
> 
> (This roughly places Lavellan round 8ish weeks...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've decided to add a chapter. Scary, I know. The direction of this fic has sort of changed, but not really, I'm trying to expand the story and add a little more dimension. 
> 
> FYI THIS IS NOT A HAPPY STORY AT ALL. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.

It had been a very long, quiet ride back to Skyhold. Solas had held back on his hart as Elëwyn lead the way back to the Frostback Mountains; the woman refusing to look back at the solemn elf trailing behind her. By the time they had returned to the fortress, her broken heart had turned to rage fueled by hormones. Dismounting from her own hart, the Inquisitor ripped her saddlebags from the exhausted mount and left it standing for someone else to unbridle. Taken aback at her demeanor, Dennett quickly moved from her path as she stormed by, bags in hand. Moving up the stairs to the kitchen’s rear door, she flung open the door and disappeared through it. Turning his attention to the other elf starring in the direction she had gone, the horse master immediately recognized the look of sorrow and heartbreak that crossed the mage’s face. It was rare for Solas to drop his mask and this was apparently a rare moment for the two elves indeed. Dennett had watched the pair grow closer since he had joined up with the Inquisition, even more so when the harts had come into his stables. He had been silently cheering them on from the sidelines, and was disappointed with this outcome. Nodding respectfully to the elf, Dennett lead the Inquisitor’s hart into the barn for a brush down and turn-in. Solas’ attention returned back to his own mount and swung off the saddlebags in preparation to do the same.

\---

Holding back the tears of anger and despair that yet again threatened to spill, Elëwyn set her glare as to stop anyone from interrupting her mission. Up the stairs, she inhaled a shudder, just keep going - don't stop. Reaching the top of the first flight of stairs, she caught Varric’s inquiring look. Deepening the determination, re-adjusting her posture, she moved past the gaping onlookers with her head held high, and up to the door leading to her quarters. Had she remembered her vallaslin was no longer upon her skin at that moment, she might have taken a different approach. Opening the door with as much dignity as she could muster, the elf slipped through gracefully, shutting it quietly behind her. Nearly collapsing against the door, the first traitorous tears slid down her bare cheek. Wiping the back of her hand against her face, Elëwyn pushed off the wooden door and climbed the rest of the stairs to her chambers.

Slamming the door behind her had given her a moment of satisfaction, but only a moment. The tears could not be held back any longer, and they fell freely. Dropping the saddlebags at the top of the stairs, she moved to her bed and flopped down on her back, careful to not be too rough on her ever growing stomach. Grabbing the pillow above her head, Elëwyn shoved it over her face as she sobbed and screamed her fury out. She hadn't heard the knocking at her door, nor would she had cared to let them in. Lost in the sobbing, she didn't notice until she felt the bed dip beside her. Reacting with as much gusto as she could, she threw the soaked pillow at the intruder.

Rolling off the side of the bed, she landed perfectly crouched ready for an attack. Her vision cleared enough to recognize the outline of a floppy hat. Cole's hat flopped a little to the side as his blue eyes meet hers.

“I know I'm supposed to wait for an answer, but I'm here to help.”

Emotionally drained, the elf moved back to the bed and sat on the edge. The two stared at each other as she struggled to regain her breath from the spasms her diaphragm was producing. It was a battle she lost. Flopping back down on the bed, her head in the crook of her elbow, Elëwyn sobbed and shuddered as the boy-spirit moved closer to her and placed his hand on her shaking shoulder. They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity. Every time she thought it had stopped, a new wave of emotion would wash over her, drowning the pregnant woman once more. Cole remained through the evening, waiting for his friend to release the tension that had built up for so long. The stress of war, the Vir’Abelasan, and hiding her pregnancy was taking its toll. Unbeknownst to Elëwyn, downstairs Varric had been able to do damage control and keep Josephine and Leliana from knocking down the door.

Morning had arrived at some point and the elf woke up to Cole stoking her hearth and the smell of her tea steeping. Rolling over, Elëwyn had notice her traveling clothes had been exchanged for one of Dorian's sleeping shirts and her smalls. The shirt was basically a nightgown on her. Rubbing her eyes clear of what was left of the dried tears, the elf shifted to sit up under the covers.

“You like the smell of Dorian, the spices calm you. He wouldn't mind. He doesn't use it anymore anyways. The Iron Bull is too warm.”

Groaning a little with a small stretch, Elëwyn wrinkled her nose at the spirit, “Thank you, Cole. Perhaps we'll work on the asking thing again and the keeping the privacy of others…” she smiled weakly at him. Cole returned the smile brightly as he brought over a cup of tea. Taking her hand, he dropped her supplements and handed her the steaming tea.

“They want to know what happened. They know you are bare-faced. Varric told them.”

Elëwyn sputtered out the remaining tea in her mouth. Placing both the cup and items in her hand on the side table, she threw back the covers and raced to her standing mirror. Grabbing at her cheeks and forehead, her eye began to glisten. The woman staring back at her was not one she recognized. Mythal’s markings were wiped from the proud Dalish features, as if they had never been there in the first place. Slumping forward, her head against the mirror, more tears fell. The silence was only broken seconds later as a hand met glass and shattered it.

\---

Solas finished with his hart and put him away for the night. Giving the animal one last pat, the mage picked up his bags and made the journey through the lower yard to stairs. Sighing, he resigned himself to do the walk of shame. His walls were rebuilding with each step, the mask slipping back into place. Reaching the great hall’s doors, he passed through them heading to his room through the garden. He felt as Varric watched from his post by the fire, not bothering to make eye contact. Solas just could not force himself.

Once safely behind his warded door, he slumped on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. Cursing himself in Elvhen, his own eyes no longer dry, his body shuddering in sorrow and anger. Anger at himself for letting it get so far. Anger at the world that had come to pass. Sorrow for his love, his vhenan. He had been so close to letting it all out. She had been willing to listen to the facts about her vallaslin, although angry at first - almost disgusted, he noted. But his pride and his own fear had won out. Solas could not, would not drag her down with him. No, he had to refocus on his mission. He could not afford to be distracted or be a distraction any longer. Once Corypheus was defeated and out of the way, he could finally begin to restore what was lost. No matter his personal cost.

\--

“Hey, Solas… “

The mage turned towards the voice standing at the entrance to the rotunda. Surprised to see Varric standing there and even more so not have heard Chuckles, Solas nodded to the dwarf. Varric walked over to the desk, placing a round canteen and a small burlap bag on the corner.

“I noticed you weren't at the morning meal and I won't lie, we're all curious… But you get your privacy for now. There's fresh buns and some fruit in the bag, tea in the canteen. I know, you don't like tea but it's warm. Maybe that'll help. “

“I…” the elf stared at the bag on his desk, “… thank you, Varric. I appreciate it. Both, the gesture and privacy.”

The dwarf nodded back, “No problem. I'm not sure if you'll get questions about the tattoos or her hand, but everyone knows to give you space.”

Solas abruptly looked up and met Varric’s gaze. “... Her hand?”

“Yeah, the other one. Cole took her to the healer this morning. Her Inquisitorialness was bleeding badly. Enough she couldn't heal herself, not that she's much good at it.”

 

\--

After being escorted to the healer and back by Cole, Elëwyn did not think her day could get more embarrassing. She was very wrong. Breakfast was awkward, with the whispering and eye avoidance by just about everyone. After awhile, Cole whispered to her and they both got up and left for the garden, her plate abandoned, but his pockets full. Her hand had not been much help anyways, with the bandage and healing rune making gripping the fork nearly impossible. Outside, on the far side, she inhaled a large breath. Sitting on the bench, she closed her eyes, fingers massaging her temples the best she could. Cole offered her the apple from his pocket.

Taking it, she nodded her thanks. She was so grateful the nausea from her little secret had mostly stopped, but her appetite had nearly given her away on more than one occasion. The lack of alcohol and nights in the tavern had a few suspicious, but she simply blamed it on the healer and the medication, saying alcohol couldn't mix and a side effect was an increased appetite and a need of more sleep. Before the others has teased her about wanting more “sleep” time with the Fade Expert, but eventually that got old and the harassment had stopped.

Elëwyn looked at the spirit sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of her. In the quiet moments after having her diagnosis defined, Cole would slip by and they'd talk about the baby and her worries. She'd vent and discuss about the Well with Cole. He'd bring her things he had picked up about the Well from Solas and Morrigan. She had asked Cole when he knew about her pregnancy, he had said he didn't know what it was at first, but now he did. He said she had gotten even brighter and didn't know that was possible. She had chuckled at that, and then asked him if he knew what the child would be. In the most serious tone she had ever heard from him he had replied, You don't want to know. You don't want me to tell you or anyone else. You will wait. When Elëwyn had looked down and began to play with the rings on her hands, Cole added, He doesn't know. He's won't find what he's not searching for, to which she threw her arms around his neck and hugged the air out of him.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she turned her attention to the apple. Blinking away a threat of a tear, she took a bit and chewed. It did not feel real. The lack of vallaslin nor the fact Solas walked away seemed to truly register. Her attention turned to the no longer flat stomach. They had not been physical since before the Arbor Wilds, and they hadn't had a chance before the grove when he took her out there. Her form was still easy to hide behind her armour, so she'd be able to hide it for a bit longer. The idea of harm coming to her or her child during the battles they faced scared her, but the future in Redcliffe terrified her. Corypheus could not be allowed to prevail.

Elëwyn would no doubt have to reveal her condition soon if this did not come to a close soon. Her fear of what her Inner Circle would say or do kept creeping back in. The Well had not seemed to affect the child but the headaches it caused did nothing good for her either. She gave a small snort which drew Cole's attention from the butterflies that had been drawn to him. She was actually glad that she had a handle on the Anchor. Glad. If she had been pregnant earlier, she did not know what that outcome of being sick, annoyed, and little to no control over the mark would have been like. Cole gave her a lopsided grin.

The tiny, adorable grin started an avalanche of hysterical laughing. Elëwyn could not contain it. Damn these hormones! It was so absurd. An unwedded Dalish mother, marked by an unknown Elvhen magic, held high in esteem by humans… it was just too much. This is what she got for envying the hunters who left the Clan for business. She had so desperately wanted adventures… well she most certainly got one. Deshanna would be so disappointed if she knew exactly what was going on in her personal life. She’d have a hard time explaining her lack of vallaslin if she ever got to go home. Home. That stopped the laughing. Looking down at the apple the elf sighed. Cole climbed up on the bench beside her and nudged her with his shoulder. Her hands laid on her lap, apple nestled with the faint green light reflecting off the skin and her overly bandaged hand. Tilting her head to the side, she rested it on Cole’s shoulder and they sat in silence, watching the butterflies flit from flower to flower.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you see any grammatical or spelling errors, let me know. Most of the chapters will not be beta'd.


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